


The Corpse Groom

by trekkiepirate



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Corpse Bride AU, F/M, Happy Ending, James is still cut in half, M/M, Rating for Language, Tequila the Singing Cowboy I HAVE NO SHAME, character death is in the past (because CORPSE Bride)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-06 07:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12206415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trekkiepirate/pseuds/trekkiepirate
Summary: Like it says on the tin, this is the Kingsman version of The Corpse Bride/Softest Boy in The World. Featuring Eggsy as the Corpse Groom, Harry as a man who just wants to know what the fuck is going on, Roxy as Someone Who Deserves Better Than This Shit, Valentine as a dead wizard, Charlie as His Usual Prick Self, and Merlin as the best priest ever.YA'LL I FORGOT ONE OF THE DAMN CHAPTERS. THERE IS A SCENE IN THE CHURCH BETWEEN THEN HEADING UPSTAIRS AND HARRY AND EGGSY GETTING MARRIED PLEASE GO AND READ IT AS IT'S BASICALLY THE MOST IMPORTANT CHAPTER AND I'M SORRY I'M A COMPLETE IDIOT WHO FORGOT THE MOST IMPORTANT CHAPTER I SUCK AND I'M WELL AWARE THAT I SUCK!





	1. Learn. Your. Vows.

Harry Hart did not want to get fucking married. Especially not to Lady Roxanne Morton. Oh she was a lovely girl, if young, but as Harry's proclivities were not for the fairer sex, he despaired all the way through the rehearsal ceremony.

He'd dropped the ring seven times and forgotten his vows no less than thirteen. At last, Merlin (the priest and Harry's dear friend) took pity on him and announced an end to the evening. “Mr. Hart will learn his vows tonight and all will be well for the wedding tomorrow,” Merlin assured the room.

Chester King, Harry's uncle and the matchmaker for this unhappy union grumbled before he went to speak to Lord Hesketh, who'd been the cause of ring drop #4 and vow forgetting #s 6-9. Halfway through the rehearsal, the young lord had been announced with much fanfare and listing of titles. Mr and Mrs Morton had all but fallen over themselves to make him comfortable as he lamented that he'd been a day early for the wedding. Pompous though he must certainly was (no wonder Chester were chatting with him as if they were the best of friends already), Harry couldn't deny that Lord Hesketh was exactly who Roxanne should be marrying.

Speaking of, the young woman was standing at the side of the room, looking despondently out the window. Feeling guilty for his part in her misery, Harry sidled up to her. “Lady Roxanne. I hope my bumblings haven't offended you. I've never been a particularly graceful man; it's these damn awkward limbs of mine. Mer- Father Hamish can tell you; he was at school with me when I was first growing into them.”

“I am not offended, Mister Hart,” Roxanne said, glancing at Harry from the corner of her eye. “I am merely hoping that our wedding would be here all the sooner. I'm eager to have the whole matter settled and done with.” She sighed, as unhappy as Harry felt.

Mrs Morton bustled up to them, digging her nails into Harry's arm as Roxanne's maid ushered the young woman from the room.

Mr Morton was waiting with a look on his face that promised Harry the wrong end of the nearest shotgun. “Learn. Your. Vows,” he growled with a not insignificant glance to Harry's forehead, as if he could put a bullet there by wishing it hard enough.

Harry did not run, but he did hastily retreat from the room. Merlin was in the hallway, putting on his cloak.

“It can't be that bad,” the priest said. “Roxanne's lovely and a very kind girl. Always helping out at Sunday school.”

“If I loved her, it would be easier,” Harry said. “If I loved women as a sex, it would be easier.”

Merlin shook his head. “I've told you. God does not make mistakes. You are who you are for a reason.”

Harry sighed. “That reason cannot be to marry a girl in order to give her struggling family financial support in exchange for a title I do not even want.”

“Your uncle wants it enough for the both of you,” Merlin said. “If you don't marry Roxanne, the old crab might take it into his head to do so himself. Spare the girl that.”

Shuddering at the thought, Harry nodded. “I'll get it right.”

Merlin clapped a hand to Harry's shoulder. “Go on. Go find somewhere quiet and practice. The vows aren't hard; there's bloody props on the altar, you thick sod.”

“Are men of the cloth allowed to use the word 'sod'?” Harry asked, more at ease with taking the piss out of Merlin.

“Probably not, but I'll absolve myself just in case,” Merlin smiled. “I think an extra Hail Mary will do it.”

Still chuckling, Harry walked Merlin to the church on the outskirts of town and bid his friend good night.

The woods beyond looked quiet enough, so Harry continued to walk, sighing in a dramatic way that no one could begrudge him out here. “Merlin's right, the vows aren't that hard. I just don't want to marry the girl.” He broke a dying twig off a tree and smacked some shrubs with it. “But rather me than Chester, at least I can promise Lady Roxanne that I won't force my attentions upon her.”

An owl hooted somewhere and Harry looked around, realizing he'd gone deeper into the woods than he'd meant to.

Sitting upon a nearby rock, Harry withdrew the wedding band from his pocket. “Lady Roxanne. No, if she's to be my wife I must get used to calling her by her given name. Roxanne. You are the most beautiful woman in the world!” Harry sighed, “If only that meant anything to me.”

Standing, Harry cleared his throat and strode determinedly into a clearing. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows,” he began in a clear, steady voice. “Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine,” Harry mimed the pouring of the wine from the ceremony. “With this candle,” Harry held the twig as if he were lighting a candle, “I will light your way in darkness.” He turned around and saw a branch sticking up from the ground that looked very much like a hand. “With this ring, I ask you,” Harry bent and placed the ring upon the third twig as if it were a beloved's finger, “to be mine.”

As though a veil had been drawn, suddenly the woods became as dark as a new moon night and the wind picked up so that it sounded like the howling of a thousand wild creatures. Harry looked up at the sky and gasped when he felt something tugging his arm into the ground. With an almighty yank, he freed himself and looked at what had ensnared him.

It was a skeletal arm, the hand still wrapped around Harry's wrist.

Harry screamed and shook his arm until the ghastly arm flew off to land on his other side. He was just about to rescue the ring from the gruesome thing, when the ground seemed to convulse as if it was going to burst. Another skeletal hand sprang up and grasped the snow-covered ground. Harry watched in horror as something vaguely human-shaped, wearing a wedding suit, rose from the ground.

A whispered “I do,” and a hand reaching towards him was the last thing Harry remembered before blackness overtook him.


	2. Romance, Passion, and Murder Most Foul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up and immediately wishes he hadn't.

The next thing Harry knew, he was in a brightly lit room with a host of faces looking down at him.

“He must have fainted,” a voice said, its accent sounding rough and more like London than the quiet hamlet Harry lived in.

“By Jove,” another voice, this one more like the crisp sound of Harry's own, “we've got ourselves a breather.”

Harry took a deep breath as if to make sure it was he being discussed.

“Do we, James?” A woman's hearty chuckle. “Handsome. Does he have a dead brother?”

“He's still soft,” a child's voice complained as bony fingers poked Harry in the ribs.

Harry gasped and backed away swiftly, looking around as he finally understood what he was seeing. There were people, yes, but they were all... gray. Some were naught but skeletons and most had various sharp implements impaled in them somewhere. The man with the posh accent clapped. “A live one, indeed!” He was split right down the middle, two perfect halves of a gray, suited man.

Taking a decided action, Harry attempted to liberate a sword from the torso of a nearby skeleton, only to find the small man was still attached as Harry tried to wield it.

“Don't come any closer,” he said, nonetheless, trying to hide the fear in his voice. “I've got a... dwarf.”

“My name is Gawain, thank you very much,” the dwarf said.

Harry bowed his head slightly. “Pleasure to meet you, Gawain. Now, I have some questions and I want some answers! What am I doing here? Where is here? Who are all of you?”

A figure approached Harry, gently placing a guiding hand on his arm until Harry lowered Gawain and the sword to the ground. “In the woods, you said your vows so perfectly, luv.”

“Luv?” Harry recognized the wedding suit (though a pure white as opposed to Harry's formal black) and a quick glance confirmed that Harry's wedding band was on the dead man's hand. His left hand was the only skeletal part of him that Harry could see, though his flesh wasn't grey, he was blue. “Oh god,” Harry knocked his head with his fist a couple times.   
“Wake up, Harry, wake the hell up.”

“Get the man a drink,” James called, each of his hands holding a whisky tumbler.

“Stop that,” the dead groom said again.

“No,” Harry said, stepping back as the dead man stepped closer. “No. I still need those answers. Who are you?”

“That's a bit of a long story, luv,” the dead man looked down and Harry could tell if he'd had circulating blood, his cheeks would have blushed.

“And what a story it is,” a skeleton stood in a spotlight, cowboy hat slowly lifting until a bony face was revealed. “A tragic tale of romance, passion and murder most foul,” he continued in an American Southern accent.

“Tequila's singing. This is gonna be good,” Gawain commented from somewhere around Harry's thighs.

A jazzy melody started up and the skeleton in the cowboy hat began to sing, though how that was accomplished without lungs or vocal cords, Harry was too overwhelmed to delve into.

__  
“The guy was a beauty known for miles around,  
When a mysterious stranger came into town:  
He was plenty good-looking but down on his cash,  
And our poor little fella he fell hard and fast.  
When step-father got word, he just couldn't cope:  
So our lovers came up with a plan to elope.  
His real dad's tuxedo fit like a glove:  
You don't need much when you're really in love.  
Then next to the graveyard by the old oak tree,  
On a dark foggy night, at a quarter to three:  
Groom was ready to go, but where was he?  
In the shadows he waited, standing there tall and proud,  
Then everything went black, his heart beating loud,  
When he opened his eyes he was dead as dust:  
His lover had left him and his heart was bust.  
So he made a vow lying under that tree  
That he'd wait for his true love to come set him free:  
Always waiting for someone to ask for his hand,  
Then out of the blue comes this groovy old man  
Who vows forever to keep our boy near,  
and that's the story of how you came here." 

As the assembled party of dead people began another rousing chorus, Harry slipped away as fast as he could. He hid around a statue of a skeletal horse and sat on the ground, wondering when the world would make sense again.

“Harry,” a voice called out. “Where are you?”

Harry whirled around for an escape route. There was a hill with stairs cut into the side and he began to head that way.

The corpse groom still called. “Harry? Harry, luv, where are you?”

Sitting on top of the hill, one could see the whole... village was the right term, Harry supposed. He rolled up his sleeve and pinched his arm, bit the inside of his cheek until it bled, and finally closed his eyes while desperately wishing to open them to the view of his bedroom ceiling. At last convinced that, somehow, none of this was a dream, Harry stared off at the view and sighed heavily.

“It's beautiful, ain't it?” Standing behind Harry but looking out to the town, the corpse groom smiled. “Takes my breath away, it does. Well, would if I had any,” he laughed.

Harry couldn't help his own lips twitching.

The dead man had sat down on a nearby bench and patted the seat beside him in invitation.

“Look,” Harry said as he sat, “I'm terribly sorry for what happened to you. The scoundrel who did that,” he nodded to the fingermarks around the corpse's neck, “to you should be drawn and quartered for a start but please...” he paused. “I'm sorry I don't know your name.”

“It's Eggsy.”

Harry nodded. “Eggsy, I have to go home.”

For the first time, Eggsy's sweet smile seemed to fade. “This is your home now.” He perked up again quickly. “Oh, almost forgot. I got a present for ya.” He whistled and a small skeletal dog came bounding over, a collar in his mouth.

Harry reached down and read the name on the familiar collar. “Mr Pickle?”

The dog barked and plopped his body down on Harry's feet as it used to when it was alive.

“It is you!” Harry couldn't help the joy that overcame him to see his beloved dog again, albeit in a rather unusual way. “Oh my good boy; I have missed you, yes I have.”

“I thought you'd be happy to see him,” Eggsy said and smiled.

“Oh I am, thank you!” Harry smiled for the first time in... ages it felt like. “Now, have you forgotten your training? Roll over, Mr Pickle.”

The dog's body rolled over while his head stayed still. He sat when commanded to and barked when told to speak.

“Play dead,” Harry said.

The dog tilted its head and whined a little.

“Oops,” Harry said. “My apologies.”

Mr Pickle leapt onto the bench, coming to a stop in Eggsy's lap. “He's a cutie,” the corpse said, kissing the dog's skull.

“You should have seen him with fur,” Harry commented.

Eggsy gave him such a blinding smile that Harry saw a bit of how beautiful the man must have been when he was alive.

“My Uncle Chester never approved of Mr Pickle jumping up into anyone's lap,” Harry said. “But then again, the old coot doesn't approve of anything, really.”

“Ya think he'd have approved of me?” Eggsy asked with a shy smile.

“Be glad you'll never have to meet him,” Harry said. Then an idea struck him. “Well, actually, since we're,” only the slightest pause, “married, perhaps you should meet him.”

Eggsy clapped his hands together. “Brilliant! Where's he buried?”

Harry frowned. “Ah, yes. Well he's still alive, you see.”

“Oh, that's a problem,” Eggsy said.

Mr Pickle suddenly began to bark.

Eggsy leaned down. “What's that? Nah, couldn't impose on him like that.”

Mr Pickle barked again.

“Good point, guv,” Eggsy patted him again and stood. “All right, let's go see Elder Valentine.”


	3. Butterflies and a Balcony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Valentine is awesome and Harry just tries his best.

The tall skeleton with the cap on his head stared at Harry. “Husband, huh? And you want to take a trip upstairs?”

Eggsy nodded and cuddled Mr Pickle closer to his chest. “Yes. Please Elder Valentine. You're the most brilliant guy down here; you gotta know some way.”

“Flattery gets you everywhere,” Elder Valentine smiled and rubbed his bony hands together. “Course I know something,” the lisped American accent crowed, “I know everything. I'll do a Ukrainian haunting spell. Ya'll just make sure that when you wanna come back, you say 'Oxfords'.”

“Oxfords?” Harry snorted. “That's a part of a Ukrainian haunting spell?”

Valentine narrowed his eyes and if he'd had lips they would surely have been pursed. “Oxfords are what I saw when I looked down at your damn feet, now shut up or you can forget the spell entirely.”

Harry mimed zipping his lips and found himself reaching out to take hold of Eggsy's arm when the corpse placed Mr Pickle safely on the ground. The spell would probably work best if they were attached somehow, he reasoned.

Valentine intoned some words that sounded like nonsense to Harry, but soon enough a cloud of dust settled and they were back in the clearing were Harry's world had turned upside down.

Eggsy looked up and smiled dreamily. “Been in the dark so long, I'd almost forgotten how pretty the moon is.” He hugged Harry tightly then danced gracefully around the clearing, pulling Harry into a waltz.

As they danced, the moonlight showed enough detail for Harry to realize that Eggsy had been quite young when he died. Young and beautiful and if Harry had known Eggsy when he was alive, he'd have met him in the woods that night. They'd have run away together and made their own vows to each other somewhere safe and secluded. A little cottage by a river, maybe?

A butterfly flew between them, interrupting Harry from his thoughts.

“Purple emperor,” Harry noted.

Eggsy looked at him. “Butterfly fan, are ya?”

Harry nodded, taking the lead from Eggsy and sweeping the other man around the clearing. “I have quite a few specimens at home. I'm a lepidopterist.” When he caught Eggsy's confused look, he elaborated, “I study butterflies. I have quite a few specimens at home.”

“I can't wait to see your home,” Eggsy smiled. “Meet this grumpy old uncle of yours. Wanna take bets that he passes out? Might run in the family,” he winked.

Coming to a stop, Harry bit his lip. He'd tricked his way back up to the world on the living for a reason after all. He had to find Roxanne and explain the situation to her. Maybe put her into Merlin's care as the priest seemed just as reluctant to let Chester get his glory-seeking, lecherous fingers on her. Harry could then worry about finding a way to sever Eggsy's claim on him.

Harry regarded Eggsy. The corpse was too much to explain and who knew how long they had before the spell wore off? “Eggsy. I think you'd agree that news of my marriage to someone like you might be a bit... hard for my uncle to understand. For many reasons.” Eggsy was not only dead, but a man. Harry couldn't fathom wasting any time on trying to explain anything to Chester.

“Of course,” Eggsy nodded. “No, I get it. You need to prepare him a bit, right?”

“Exactly,” Harry sighed in relief as he led Eggsy to the same rock Harry had sat on earlier in the evening. “So, I'll go explain things and you just wait here. I'll be right back to collect you. Promise.” He turned back only once, to see Eggsy waiting patiently and humming to himself, staring up at the moon again.

As he hurried back into town, Harry worked through everything that had transpired and what could be done. Roxanne would be sent to Merlin. He'd know some convent to hide her in until she could find a new place to begin her life, far from the parents who were willing to marry her off for some cash. Once that was settled, Harry could see about being free of Eggsy.

'Do you really want to be free of Eggsy?' a voice that sounded traitorously like sense said inside him. Harry couldn't deny the young man was beautiful and charming, but he was dead. And Harry was not. Regardless of Merlin's pointed comments over how much gin Harry drank, he did not actually want to be dead anytime soon if he could help it.

Harry was still mulling over the problem when he arrived at the Morton's home. There was a light on and Harry looked around for a stone or pebble to throw. The street sweepers must have been recently by as there was nothing.

“Oh bollocks,” Harry said, testing the ivy crawling around the pillar that led to the balcony. 'At least if I die doing this, Eggsy and I will be able to be together,' he thought as he made his way up.

Arriving safely, if out of breath, at the balcony, Harry breathed a sigh of relief to see Roxanne embroidering and alone. He tapped gently on the balcony door.

Roxanne startled, but hurried to open the door. “Mister Hart! Where have you been? Everyone is so worried about you.”

“I don't have much time,” Harry said, “but you must know I cannot marry you. I seem to find myself married already and it is unexpected and... complicated. Lady Roxanne, you are a wonderful woman and I cannot love you the way you deserve to be loved. I don't think anyone in this whole house can.”

“Oh Mister Hart,” Roxanne's eyes filled with tears. “I want to marry for love and I'm sure you do as well. You're a kind man, but I could never love you like a husband.”

Harry smiled, glad she understood. “Nor I could love you like a wife. But if I don't marry you, my uncle may try to offer himself as a replacement.”

Roxanne's eyes flashed with horror. “A replacement,” she sighed, “has already been found. Lord Hesketh.”

“Oh well, then I wish you-”

“He's cruel to the servants and has already tried to be improper with me once,” Roxanne said.

Harry felt righteous anger come over him. “Where is he? I'll teach him that manners maketh man. With my fists.”

Roxanne shook her head. “It would do no good. You said you don't have much time.”

“Right,” Harry was snapped back to the present. “Find some way of leaving your home. Get to the church. I'll leave word with Father Hamish of what is happening. He'll find somewhere to hide you. Keep you safe. I won't be your husband, but let me act as your true guardian. I won't let you to be auctioned off like a cart horse.”

Roxanne wrapped herself around Harry, hugging him tight and startling him enough that he hugged back in instinct. “Oh Mister Hart thank you! I have an uncle in London; he'd take me in if you can get me to him. You've made me so happy I could just-” her words cut off with a horrified gasp.

As Harry whirled around, he saw Eggsy hovering just beyond the balcony, anger and betrayal in his eyes.

Harry opened his mouth to explain, but Eggsy beat him to it.

“Oxfords.”


	4. Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Pickle bounced over and sat on Harry's foot, silently judging him.

“You fucking liar!” Eggsy shouted the moment they were back in Elder Valentine's study, he shoved at Harry's chest. “That sure wasn't no uncle I saw you holding.”

“Eggsy, please,” Harry said. “I had to explain my situation-”

“-your situation is that you're married to me!” Eggsy glared. “You said your vows and you put this ring on my finger, not hers!”

“That was a mistake! This whole thing is one big mistake!”

Silence reigned for a long moment, then Eggsy turned and ran out, his sobs echoing off the walls as he went.

Mr Pickle bounced over and sat on Harry's foot, silently judging him.

Valentine poked his head up from some books. “Well that was the exact wrong thing to say.”

Harry sighed. “I swear, I was just trying to get my former wife-to-be somewhere safe. She doesn't deserve any of the nonsense she's being put through. I was going to come back.”

“Were you?” Valentine asked. “Tell me, buddy, once you'd helped her what were you planning to do?”

“Oh what could I do?” Harry kicked at a wonky stack of books, nearly sending them crashing over his feet. “What can I do? I'm alive and he's dead. If you had a spell that could send me back in time, I'd be the one to meet him in the woods. I'd keep him safe.” Harry swallowed. “I'd love him.”

Valentine shook his head. “No time travel here. That fucks up the time-space continuum something awful. I don't truck with it. Besides, you've broken enough spells for the day.”

“Eggsy called us back here,” Harry said. “He broke the haunting spell.”

“You're a dumb one, aren't you?” Valentine said. “You wonder why Eggsy's hand was there for you to put the ring on anyway? Or why he was able to leave the place he'd died, even when most dead never can? He was waiting for someone to put a ring on it, sure. But remember the song Tequila sang about him? He made a vow to never leave that spot until his true love sent him free. And I'm gonna remind you, he was able to leave that spot.”

Harry blinked as he absorbed the information. “Shit.”

Valentine nodded.

Mister Pickle yapped twice, drawing Harry's eyes to him. In his mouth, he held Eggsy's daisy boutonniere.

“Where is he?”

 

The bar Harry had first woken up in was empty, save for Eggsy sitting at a piano.

“I think you dropped this,” Harry said, holding out the boutonniere.

Eggsy ignored him, so Harry placed the daisy on the piano.

“I'm sorry I lied about wanting you to meet my uncle. I needed to tie up some loose ends. Roxanne was thanking me for helping her get away from a horrible life. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Eggsy's shoulders seemed less tense, but he didn't look at Harry or stop playing.

Harry sat next to him and played a few notes as well, following the melody Eggsy was making up. Soon they were inventing melodies and counter-melodies and playing even faster. At one point, their hands met and their fingers intertwined.

Harry drew his hand back. “Sorry for my enthusiasm.”

“I like your enthusiasm,” Eggsy said. He sighed. “You promise that hug was a thank you? That's all?”

“That's all,” Harry said, taking Eggsy's hand again and kissing his cold knuckles.

Eggsy smiled like the sun coming up and Harry found himself leaning in before he could help himself.

“WHAT'S UP COWPOKES?” Tequila, the singing skeleton in the cowboy hat, burst into the room, accompanied by Elder Valentine and James. “Elder Valentine has something mighty funny to tell ya'll.”

Harry frowned against the interruption, but relaxed when he felt Eggsy curl closer to his side.

“So, there's a bit of a snag in your marriage,” Valentine said. 

Eggsy laughed. “Just the one?”

Valentine shook his head. “It's serious, kid. The vows are only binding until death do you part. Death has already parted you. It's invalid.”

“We're not married?” Harry said, feeling no relief.

“Well you can be,” Tequila grinned, miming the cocking and aiming of a shotgun at Harry. “If we kill you.”

Eggsy stood up and moved to block Harry from Tequila. “Fucking try to get to him through me, Cowboy.”

Valentine clapped his hands. “People, listen to the smart guy, all right? We can't kill Harry, he'd have to give up his life willingly. Drink from the wine of ages.”

“Poison,” Eggsy hissed.

“When his hearts stop beating, he can give it to you, Eggsy.”

Harry stood. “I'll do it.”

“You don't have to,” Eggsy said, turning to Harry.

Harry cupped Eggsy's cheek, stroking the soft and chilly flesh. “I want to. I've been thinking, really thinking about what exactly I'd have to go back to. Eggsy, my life upstairs was... lackluster if anything. I was scared to love and so I hid away with my books and butterflies. Strangely enough, being around you has been the most alive I've ever felt.” He chuckled, then pointed to James. “Grab everybody you can. We're taking this wedding party Upstairs!”

As people ran around, making a cake and sprucing up old, ragged clothes, Tequila climbed onto the stage and began to sing again. 

__  
'Look, look, the Groom is here;  
He's waited for this day for many a year.  
This day will last forever,  
And all of his friends will work together  
To make it the perfect day he always dreamed:  
With him shall reside our pride and our hopes,  
Here is the Groom, look, look, here he comes.'  



	5. Wedding Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Eggsy take their wedding upstairs and meet back up with friends and enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YA'LL I SCREWED UP AND OMITTED THIS CHAPTER AND ONLY JUST REALISED IT PLEASE REREAD WITH THIS CHAPTER ADDED IN I AM SORRY I AM A FUCKUP

With another of Valentine's spells, they all appeared at Merlin's church.

Merlin's very full church.

Merlin's church where he'd just paused right in the middle of “Repeat after me...”

The living guests stared at the dead ones for long time before screaming and running for the hills.

After the panic, only Merlin, Roxanne and Lord Hesketh were left, though the young Lord was hiding behind a pew from the deceased wedding party.

Roxanne recovered first. “Mister Hart!” She grinned and ran to hug Harry. “You're just in time. They locked me in when I tried to escape last night, so I stalled the ceremony. Nothing's official. I'm not married. And now my parents aren't here. I can run-” she cut off as she noticed all the dead people behind Harry and saw Eggsy at his side. “Oh, hi,” she said, letting Harry go and holding her hand out for Eggsy, “I'm Roxanne, but call me Roxy. You must be who Harry is already married to.”

“No, I mean yes. I'm Eggsy,” the corpse shook her hand, glad when she didn't flinch at the coldness of his touch. “We're actually here to get married. Officially. If you're still sure?” He turned to Harry.

“I am,” Harry said with a smile. “I don't care if I have to die to do it.”

“Die?” Roxanne clapped a hand to her mouth.

Harry gently touched her shoulder as he led Eggsy towards the altar. “It's my choice, my dear. I'd rather die and be with Eggsy forever than live without him.”

Someone cleared their throat. “How lovely. But now, wife, come along. I'll need you to empty your family's coffers before-” Lord Hesketh sidled over to Roxy, giving everyone else as wide a berth as possible.

“Coffers?” Roxanne shook her head. “We have no money. My marriage to you was going to save us from the poorhouse.”

“The poorhouse?” Lord Hesketh exploded and Roxy shrank closer to Eggsy and Harry. “You conniving little bitch. Well, even if you rob me of my money, you can't rob my of my husbandly rights.” He reached out a hand to grab her.

A skeletal hand grasped it before it even brushed her gown. Eggsy's eyes were lit like fire. “You.”

“Gary?” Lord Hesketh gasped. “No, no, that's not possible, I-”

“-killed me,” Eggsy snarled. “Yes, you did. And when I woke my father's wedding ring was gone. It's worth nothing, you couldn't have sold it. Where is it?”

Roxanne darted past the startled tableau and ran to the altar. “Eggsy? Is this it?” She tossed it and Eggsy released Lord Hesketh to catch it. He pressed his lips to the simple band, then faced Merlin who'd acquired Elder Valentine next to him at the altar. “Make sure my mum gets this, okay? Her name's Michelle Baker nee Unwin, she lives two villages over. She can pass it on to my baby sister, Daisy.” He shook his head. “Though I don't even know if she's still a baby."

“Your mother is still alive? Eggsy,” Harry said, “how long have you been dead?”

Eggsy shrugged. “Don't know. They don't have calendars or nothing Downstairs.”

“Unwin?” Merlin called. “Are you Gary Unwin?”

“Yeah that's me,” Eggsy frowned. “I hate my given name, but it's the only thing my step-father called me that wasn't an insult.”

Harry felt his 'Manners maketh man' mood rising again. He'd be sure to ask Merlin to find this step-father and be certain he stayed away from Eggsy's family.

Merlin shook his head. “Harry, he's only been dead for five years. Five years come sunrise this morning, if I recall correctly.”

Valentine brightened. “Really? That's awesome! That means there's still time.”

“Still time for what?” Harry asked.

Merlin and Valentine exchanged glances.

“You don't have to die, Harry,” Valentine said, “because we can make Eggsy live again.”

Lord Hesketh scoffed. “Well, I hate to break up this perfectly disgusting display, but I'm getting impatient to be well-shod of you freaks,” he unsheathed his sword and placed it against Roxy's throat. “Now my wife and I are leaving.”

“I'm not your wife,” Roxy growled, even as she held stock-still. “The ceremony wasn't completed.”

Lord Hesketh rolled his eyes. “Semantics.” He searched for the wedding goblet on the altar and drained it in one go. “There. Ceremony done. Now, get a move on or I'll-” His words stopped and he choked a few times. His face turned an alarming shade of purple before he sank to the ground, standing again a moment later, just as blue as Eggsy.

“Hey V-Dawg,” Tequila called. “Now that he's dead, we don't have to abide by the laws of the living anymore, do we?”

Elder Valentine grinned. “Have at him.”

With Tequila leading the charge, every dead person who loved the kind, sweet corpse groom grabbed Lord Hesketh, pulling him Downstairs with them. In pieces.

Harry turned to make sure Eggsy was okay, only to find the young man on the ground. “Eggsy? Eggsy, are you all right?”

Roxy had her hands over her chest and tears in her eyes. “Harry, Harry look.”

As Harry watched, the Purple Emperor butterfly he and Eggsy had seen in the clearing, flew around the ceiling before heading straight into Eggsy's chest. A moment later, Eggsy gasped and sat up. As Harry watched, Eggsy took more heaving breaths, colour coming to pinken his cheeks, the fingermarks fading from his throat. His hair changed from gray to a light, sandy brown and his eyes from their dead, cold blue to the most beautiful turquoise Harry had ever seen.

“Harry,” Eggsy coughed, his voice rough. “Harry,” he grabbed the man's hands and placed them on his chest. “My heart. It's beating. I'm breathing. I'm alive!”

Harry helped Eggsy to his feet and turned to a very smug Merlin and Valentine. “How? All of it. How?”

Valentine nodded at Eggsy, “Kid taught me some sleight of hand, so I switched the goblets.”

Merlin held an identical goblet. “This is the regular wine. Hesketh drank the poison. Once he was dead, Eggsy's untimely death was reversed. That's what we meant by still time. Little known rule, but the murdered get five years to exact revenge and come back,” Merlin smiled at Eggsy, “and you cut it quite fine, lad.”

Valentine clapped his hands. “So are we having this wedding or not?”

Eggsy bit his very pink bottom lip. “You don't hav-”

Harry cut the words off with a kiss. “Try and stop me, darling.” Suddenly he pulled back. “Unless you'd rather- you're young again and I'm still the wrong side of fifty. I can't give you a full lifetime with me.”

Eggsy smiled. “Not a problem. I know where to find you when the time comes.” He tilted his face up and kissed Harry some more.

Merlin cleared his throat. “This is very moving, but you should really say your vows before you carry on with the kissing part. You remember the vows, Harry?”

Harry grinned. “I don't think I'll ever forget them again.”


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy endings all around.

So Eggsy and Harry were married, by a living priest and a dead Elder, with Roxy as their jubilant witness. Harry's uncle suffered a fatal heart attack that same day, as a result of running away from a horde of dead wedding guests. Harry took the inheritance he received and, with his new husband, took Roxy to London.

He and Eggsy found a modest townhouse in the Stanhope Mews with a garden out back, where Harry continued his study of butterflies and Eggsy became a doctor once he discovered he had a talent for bringing people and animals back from the brink of death.

With the support of her doting uncle, Roxy found a man who wasn't rich, but who worshiped her. A year later, they married, Harry and Eggsy her equally joyous witnesses.

After decades of happiness (and a couple dogs to keep their feet warm), the day came when Eggsy rose out of bed one morning and Harry didn't.

On the day of the funeral, Roxy brought her children round to collect their Uncle Eggsy, but he was laying on the kitchen floor.

Her eldest son, now a doctor with his own practice, did the examination and told Roxy it was a heart attack, but Roxy knew it was more a heartbreak.

Her husband collected the children and Roxy promised to be home soon. When alone, Roxy tapped her foot on the floor to the tune of the song Harry and Eggsy were always playing on their piano.

As a cloud of dust whipped up then settled, Eggsy and Harry were stood in the doorway, both as gray as the other.

Roxy hugged her friends one last time and kissed their cold cheeks. “So after a blissful life, you get eternity together? Any particular plans?”

Harry grinned. “I was thinking I'd ask this one to marry me again. If he'll have me.”

Eggsy beamed. “As if I didn't have to literally chase you down once upon a time.”

Their laughter echoed as they faded away.


End file.
